‘Yes.’
‘Did he mention his relationships?’
‘No, he didn’t.’
Mrs Dhillon placed her glass down on the coaster with the same deliberation that she chose her words. ‘I know this is his personal matter, but I also feel that as a woman who can understand your position, I have a responsibility to tell you exactly what it is that you are getting into.’
Anupama stared at her, curious.
‘His first serious relationship was with a girl who had just joined his class, back when he was in the eleventh grade,’ said Mrs Dhillon, with a reminiscent twinkle in her eye. ‘The odd thing about this new girl was that she never talked to anyone, even though she wasn’t really mute. She had the ability to speak, she just chose not to. No amount of punishment or threats or cajoling could get her to open up. She had no friends, well at least not until Charlie came along. You know how charming he can be. The very fact that nobody wanted to be with her was what attracted him to her. She fascinated him. It wasn’t long before she began responding to him too. They wouldn’t talk, yet somehow, they always managed to communicate. People would make fun of them and mock them, but it didn’t matter to him. Knowing that this girl – this girl who wouldn’t speak to anyone, not even her parents – knowing that this girl had chosen him … it just brought him the biggest joy. She was the soulmate he had been seeking all his life, he claimed. Things got so serious that at one point the teachers began to warn me, asking me to keep an eye on him. Perhaps even they didn’t know what exactly it was that scared them, but they just felt that something was horribly wrong. I have to say I had my doubts too. My biggest fear was the day that I would have to tell him to break it off, because honestly, I didn’t see a future there.’
Anupama nodded wordlessly, wondering where this was going.
‘As it turned out, I didn’t need to. Because one day, that girl did something that broke his heart and their relationship forever. She talked. She talked to Charlie because she felt he was the only person she could ever trust. She told him everything – about how she had initially begun to stay mute for attention, until it became an addiction for her. She told him about all those secrets that had long been inside her, just waiting to erupt someday – secrets that I never heard, of course. She opened up to him – fully, completely. And that was the day he saw her for what she actually was – ordinary. Just a person, like you and me. The mystery was gone, and so was the allure. Everything that he had believed about her turned out to be an illusion. There was nothing left to go on.’
With a sigh, Mrs Dhillon gazed out through the window, observing the slight drizzle that persisted at the tail end of the monsoons. ‘He thought she was different, and that was how it started – every time. He has been through a few relationships in his life by now, three of which I know. Each time, it has been with a person who intrigued him in some way or the other. The girl in his theatre group who cried in her sleep, the online friend who worked for a suicide helpline after having tried to kill herself thrice in secret, the ill-tempered lady in our neighbourhood who hated children and never let anyone into her garden.’
It was all Anupama could do to remain composed. What was happening here? Wasn’t this supposed to be a simple matter of tea and getting to know each other? Was she bluffing, by any chance? No, she couldn’t have made this stuff up even if she wanted to.
‘So … what are you saying? That he is strangely attracted to weirdos?’
‘No, it’s not that simple. But like I said, no one knows a boy like his mother. You know he had gone missing for a few days when he was only six years old? We nearly went mad looking for him, and just when we had begun to imagine the worst, the police found him in a dhaba, forty kilometres away, working as a waiter.’
‘Really?’
Mrs Dhillon nodded. ‘The dhaba owner claimed he had no knowledge of the boy’s background. He had just popped up at this place one morning and had asked for work. Presuming him to be homeless, he had taken him under his wing. Everyone around us assumed that the experience must have left him traumatized. But later that night, when I was putting him to bed, Charlie confided in me that those four days had been the happiest of his life. He hadn’t got lost. He had run away. Because he wanted to live a life where he could have been anybody. What six-year-old thinks like that?’
She lowered her eyes to absently gaze at the ice melting in her glass of juice, which lay forgotten on the table, perspiring onto the coaster. ‘That’s the thing about my son, Anupama. He is not just a wanderer, he is a seeker. And what he seeks more than anything – are stories. That is his addiction. That is the way it has always been. As long as he feels there is a story somewhere, or within someone, he stays. And when the mystery is solved, which it will be someday, he’ll be gone. He doesn’t do it out of malice. That’s just the way he is. You don’t choose the way you were made.’
Anupama had listened to each and every word with rapt attention, analysing her tone, her words, and tried to fathom her intentions. She had waited for a loophole to present itself, a crack in her tale that she could use to disintegrate her entire theory. You missed this, she wanted to declare. You missed that. You don’t know him as well as you think you do. She had waited and waited until she was done. Yet somehow, everything she said, even the parts that were hard to believe, everything seemed to fit perfectly into the Charlie she knew, or rather, thought she knew. Why hadn’t he ever told her this? Or was he even aware?
She had a story – that much was true. But was that all that mattered, at the end of the day?
‘Please understand, I’m not trying to discourage you,’ said Mrs Dhillon gently. ‘Of course, I want my son to be happy. But as of now, it’s not him I am worried about. It’s you. If tomorrow, he chooses to leave, would you be able to deal with it? That’s what you need to think about.’
If only she knew. She had been dealing with it for the past two weeks now.
‘What if he doesn’t?’ she asked. ‘What if he never gets to know my story? What if he stays?’
Mrs Dhillon smiled sadly. ‘Well then, that would be just perfect, wouldn’t it?’
‘You should go,’ she said to Charlie.
‘Sorry?’
‘Bangalore. For that photography course. You should go.’
Charlie chuckled, taking a drag of his joint. They were on the terrace now, enjoying the cool breeze, the remnants of monsoon still sticking around, for the rains had stopped some time ago. It had been a couple of hours since his mother had left. For Anupama, that was a couple of hours of deep contemplation over what would turn out to be one of the hardest decisions in her life.
‘I am serious,’ said Anupama.
‘I’ve cancelled my entry.’
‘You can apply again.’
‘What is up with you today? I thought you wanted me to stay. Isn’t that what our whole fight was about?’
‘I also want you to be happy.’
‘Here we go again. Arey, I am happy, baba.’
‘Then why did you apply for it in the first place?’
‘I told you, I just wanted to try it out. But not at the cost of us, obviously.’
‘Then try it out. That’s all I am saying. Don’t worry about us, seriously.’
She waited for him to refute her, to say that he wasn’t interested in any more changes. That he would be happier staying here with her any day. That she was all he needed.
‘I can’t afford to pay three months’ rent here and the course fees,’ he said, instead.
And that was it. That was the moment – when the truth became clear for what it was rather than what she wanted it to be. A prickly pang rose in her heart, threatening to rip her apart. It was a mark of her inner strength that she was able to keep a straight face right then, in front of him, even though every bit inside her had just crumbled and collapsed.
He passed her the joint, but she ignored it and gently grasped his hand instead, pulling him to face her. ‘I have thought a lot about it, Ch
arlie. And I want to do the right thing, not just for you, but also for myself.’
‘What are—’
‘I want to tell you everything. The whole story.’
And so she did. That very night, on that terrace marked by moonlight and shadows, she unburdened herself to him – the secrets, the regrets, the pain and disappointments, the struggle, everything that made her her. By the time she was done, nothing remained to be told. The irony struck her that this man, a stranger until three months ago, was now more aware of her than her children had been their whole lives. But it had been necessary. Their future had depended on it. She had left the choice to him, and asked him to think about it, but she already knew what his decision was. The darkening of his face had been more eloquent than any verbal answer could ever be.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said slowly.
‘You won’t. Trust me.’
He raised his heavy gaze to look at her. ‘How do I know you will wait?’ he said, half-serious.
‘How do I know you will come back?’
‘Then why take the risk? Why mess with something that’s perfect?’
‘If it’s perfect, then why is it a risk?’
His eyes stayed on her, peering closely, as if there were still a secret hidden behind her eyes that they could trace out. ‘You have changed, Anu.’
Anupama smiled. Wasn’t that the whole point?
They had stood there for a long time after that, wrapped in each other’s arms. Anupama would remember every little detail of that night forever – the smell of him, the feel of his shirt, and his chest underneath, the somewhat dewy, somewhat citrusy smell in the air, the warmth of his fingers, his back, his breath, and the malleability of time, which made the world stand still for those few minutes or hours that they were up there, unmoving, almost as a final parting gift. And that instant, when she had been a woman and he, a man, and there had been nothing between them. No walls. No secrets. No pretence. Just her as her, and him as him. Just the way it should be.
Ten Months Later…
31
The monsoons this year would be particularly long and heavy according to the weather reports, something to do with a drop in oceanic temperatures on the other side of the globe. La Niña, they called this climatic phenomenon. The girl. Analogous to its counterpart, El Niño – the boy.
She had read up on both the phenomena recently, on a whim.
‘La Niña often, though not always, follows an El Niño.’
How apt, thought Anupama, smiling wryly.
Perched atop one of the jagged, coppery rocks dotting the Bandstand shoreline, she could feel the mugginess of the saline, coastal air getting displaced by a subtle, tropical coolness – the kind you could inhale into your lungs and remember fondly in hotter times. The sun was beginning to dissipate into its usual plethora of colours, as the misty horizon pulled it closer and closer towards itself. Pretty soon, nothing would be left save a weak, dull explosion of reds, yellows and oranges hovering over the greyish-blue hem, like a clumsy artist’s easel.
‘I’ve been trying to call you for some time.’
The corners of her mouth split wide in a smile that was only for him.
Turning around, she saw Charlie standing with a similar grin on his face, lit by the soft amber rays of the sunset. His hair was longer, curling at the base of his neck, the stubble still intact around his cheeks. A sling bag slung over his shoulder. His camera was inside, she knew. He had been taking it to a lot of places lately, as evidenced by the vivid photos of scenery plastered across his profile gallery. She had often wished he would upload a few pictures of himself as well. Now that she was seeing him in person after so long though, she could tell there hadn’t been much change, much to her relief.
‘You’re late,’ she said.
‘Sorry, shoot took much longer than expected.’
He sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her in what could have been an awkward embrace but wasn’t. He had always been a good hugger.
‘You look good,’ he said.
‘So do you.’
‘My God, how long has it been? Almost a year?’
‘I think so.’
Charlie grinned. ‘See, now I was hoping you would say something like, “No, it’s been ten months and six days” and I’d be like, “Whoa, that’s touching” and we would both smile and gaze at each other in an HBO moment. The sunset was just right too.’
It had been ten months and fourteen days, actually, thought Anupama. He had left on a Friday.
‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ she said, smiling.
‘How’s everyone back home?’
‘Good. Nimit’s started prepping up for his Engineering Entrance, and Misha’s waiting for her NET exams results.’
‘So she wants to become a lecturer too, huh?’
‘Seems like it.’
‘I got a lot of hate mail from Nimit for the first few days.’
‘He thought you had run away. It took me quite some time to convince him otherwise. Hope everything’s fine between you now?’
‘Yeah, yeah, he’s started following me on Instagram too.’
The sun had set halfway through. It would be dark in a matter of minutes.
‘You want to go somewhere else?’ asked Charlie.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. We used to have so many rules earlier. Remember?’
‘A lot of things have changed since then, Charlie.’
‘For good, I hope. Mrs Govindikar and the others treating you okay?’
‘She has been in the US with her son for the past six months now. Mrs Chatterjee is the new chairperson of our block.’
‘Seriously? How did that happen?’
‘After Mrs Govindikar declined from contesting in the elections, there weren’t very many options left. The only prime contenders were Mrs Mehtani and Mrs Chatterjee. Wasn’t much of a competition that way.’
‘Wow.’
‘Yes.’
‘So, I guess it should be easier for me to get a flat there now?’ he said mirthfully.
Anupama smiled. ‘How long are you here for?’
‘A couple of days. But I’m trying to get myself transferred to Mumbai soon. Let’s see.’
‘Good, good.’ She checked her watch.
‘Do you have to leave soon?’
‘I’m afraid so. I promised Renu I would help her take care of the baby tonight.’
‘Oh, right. Congratulate her on my behalf.’
‘I will.’
An uncertainty had come over their conversation now, thanks to the looming shadow of departure.
‘Are you …’ said Charlie hesitantly, ‘are you seeing someone? Just generally asking.’
‘No. You?’
‘No. I mean, I dated one or two girls in between, but it didn’t work out.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t anything serious.’
Slowly, he turned to look at her, the casualness gone. ‘I still think about you, you know.’
His hand was hovering by hers nervously. She gave it a gentle, loving squeeze. ‘I think about you too. And I’m glad you came.’
‘You remember that night, the first night you confronted me in the terrace over that cream biscuits packet?’
‘Yes. I must have scared the hell out of you.’
‘I never told you this, but that night on the terrace, before you came in, I had just made up my mind to leave this city forever.’
Anupama’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
‘I hated the heat, the crowds, the closed, congested spaces, the reckless pace everywhere,’ said Charlie, ‘and most of all, I hated the life I was living here. Every night, I felt so lonely. I had my drinking and work buddies, of course, but that wasn’t the kind of bond I was looking for. This wasn’t the kind of life I was looking for. And then’ – he burst into a short laugh – ‘and then you came in, and everything changed.’
‘I stopped
you from leaving?’
‘You stopped me from giving up.’ He gripped her hand firmly. ‘I know you think I changed your life. But the truth is, you changed mine too, in more ways than I could have imagined.’
She leaned forward to kiss him tenderly, on the cheek, her lips brushing against his stubble. He still smelt the same. The sun had gone now, leaving them both in darkness. When she drew away, there was a disturbed look in his eyes.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘It seems absurd, doesn’t it? You and I. After everything we went through, how could it not work out in the end? I mean, what was the point of all that struggle and loss and victory … how could it just end so easily? Don’t you think it’s weird?’
The question had the gravitas of a thought that had long tortured him. Anupama had thought about it. She needed to mean what she said, now more than ever.
‘I bumped into you at a time when you needed me, just like you came into my life at a time when I needed you,’ she said softly. ‘We didn’t plan it, right? It just happened. Maybe, that’s how it was supposed to be. Maybe we met each other because we needed each other without even knowing it. And maybe … maybe, we were made for each other in a way that wasn’t meant to last forever. And that’s okay. I’m just glad I met you.’
‘So, this is it?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I stopped fretting over what the future holds a long time ago, Charlie. All I know is – it’s a beautiful evening, and I’m glad I’m here with you. Now.’
Charlie smiled. ‘I am glad I’m here with you too.’
Simultaneously, they both got up to leave.
As they were about to part ways at the bustling boulevard, Charlie turned to her. ‘I know it’s too soon, but suppose, if tomorrow, I get posted here on an assignment, would you … I don’t know, want to go out for a coffee with me? No baggage, just talk. Or maybe, chai and upma, if you prefer that.’
The boyishness in his request was cloyingly cute. It was like they were in college, and he was speaking to the most popular girl in his class for the first time.
Charlie Next Door Page 25
